As Long as the Moon Still Shines
by ejwalker
Summary: The curse of the Black Mage had an effect that no one noticed until long after the Heroes had reawakened and defeated him. Songfic for 'Ghost in the Moon' by Jars of Clay.


**AN: Just a warning to anyone who wants to try looking up the lyrics for Ghost in the Moon, I haven't been able to find a correct version of them online. You'd probably be better off just listening to the song. Find it on Youtube or something.**

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Moonlight fell through the palace windows, throwing a still figure's shadow across the tiled floor. After a long moment, the figure took a deep breath and continued down the empty hall of portraits, silent as a ghost.

He finally stopped in front of one of the paintings, a large-as-life representation of a lovely young woman with blond hair, clear blue eyes, and a sweet smile. The figure extended one arm, gloved fingertips barely brushing the picture's surface. A faint whisper escaped his lips. "Aria..."

A young voice broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

The figure's only reaction was a slight stiffening, and then he immediately relaxed, turning to look at the little girl. "Visiting a friend," he answered calmly, his eyes scanning her features.

Pale hair hung to just below her chin, curving inward to frame a sober little face that was almost hidden behind her bangs. Only one eye showed. The resemblance to the portrait he had just been examining was lessened by many intervening years, but still there.

"Why are you touching the painting?" she demanded. "It's very old and fragile."

The corners of his mouth turned upward. "Don't worry, your highness, I'm being careful. I'm the last person who would want any harm to come to this particular portrait."

She stared at him with the open curiosity of a child, taking in his gold-trimmed uniform jacket and his hat with its decor of feathers and jewels, along with the black bird-mask perched just above his face. "Who are you? Are you a thief?"

Phantom chuckled. "You're very perceptive, Empress. I must confess to being a thief - in fact, I claim the title proudly - but tonight, I have no intention of stealing anything."

If he was honest, he would have to admit that he had been considering it. But as always happened when he visited Aria's portrait, the moment he laid eyes on it was the moment he remembered why he was content to leave it in its place. It would bring back the painful memories too often if he had it in his possession.

"If you're not here to steal the painting, why are you so interested in it?"

The thief flicked a magical card into existence and tossed it lazily. It looped around the girl in wide arcs as he answered. "I know you've heard my name, even if you don't realize that it's mine. Once you remember, I'm sure you'll understand."

The young empress watched the circling card warily until it landed at her feet, then frowned at him. "But the Master Thief lived hundreds of years ago."

"Yes," he agreed. "I did."

Her one visible eye widened as she asked her next question. "Are you... dead?"

Phantom paused and thought about this for a moment. "I should be. Sometimes I wish I was. But no, I'm very much alive."

She tilted her head to the side, briefly revealing her other eye. Then she said firmly, "I don't believe you. Either you're dead, or you're not really who you say you are."

Phantom held out his hand to her. "Well, I _am_ a phantom, but I'm as solid as you are. If you'd care to take a stroll with me, I'll explain as best I can."

The girl shook her head. "If you kidnap me, I'll get in trouble for being too trusting."

"Ma cherie," Phantom said, holding back his laughter, "I'm a thief. I don't steal _people_. What's your name?"

"Peridot. People who think I'm silly call me Dot, so don't do that or I won't like you." Still suspicious, the little empress allowed him to tuck her hand into his bent arm and escort her out of the portrait hall.

"I wouldn't dream of being so forward," Phantom assured her. "And Peridot is a beautiful name; who in their right mind would want to shorten it anyway?"

She gave him an astonished look. "It is?"

He nodded. "Peridot is a gemstone; didn't you know?" She didn't, so he went on. "They're always green, unlike some gems that can be all kinds of colors."

"What sort of green?"

"Oh... lime, I suppose you could call it. Some darker, some lighter."

"So, like my eyes."

Phantom glanced at her. "Your eyes are green? It's difficult to tell in the moonlight."

"Yes." She stared back at him. "What color are yours?"

"Purple."

"Like amethysts?"

"The darker ones, yes."

"Do amethysts come in other colors?"

"I don't think so. Just different shades of purple or violet."

"What's the difference between purple and violet?"

"I like to think that violet is paler, closer to pink."

"That sounds right," the empress decided.

They made their way to the gardens and found a bench to sit on near some roses, which were just starting to bud.

"So, before I get started, what do you already know about the Heroes?"

Peridot folded her hands in her lap and spoke as if reciting a lesson. "Five heroes joined together to seal the Black Mage: the Dragon Master, Freud; the Queen of the Elves, Mercedes; the Magician of Light, Luminous; the Master Thief, Phantom; and the greatest warrior to ever wield a polearm, Aran."

"Aran would like to hear himself described like that," Phantom said, smirking.

Peridot frowned at him for interrupting her and went on. "The Black Mage cursed them when he was sealed, so three of the Heroes were frozen in ice. The Magician of Light was trapped in the seal with the Black Mage and partly corrupted by his dark magic. The Dragon Master's dragon took the curse for him, so he was not frozen, and he died before the other Heroes awakened three hundred years later. At that time, the Black Mage's seal was weakening. A new Dragon Master came forth, a boy named Evan. He led the Heroes to defeat the Black Mage for good." She paused, concentrating. "Was there anything else..."

"How about the Master Thief?" asked Phantom. "Do you know why he joined the Heroes?"

"Because he fell in love with Empress Aria, and the Black Mage's commanders killed her. He wanted revenge. Did... did he get it?" she finished hesitantly.

"I did," answered Phantom. "But it wasn't satisfying. Aria was still dead. And now so many others are too..." He listened to the rose bushes rustle as a breeze blew through them. "We never knew what happened to Luminous. Some thought he died. Some thought he took the Black Mage's place as the Transcendent of Light. Some thought he was still alive, still human, just hiding somewhere. He could have done any of those things. But I think... if he was still alive... he would have contacted someone by now. Not me. I always irritated him. But someone.

"Aran died honorably in battle." He chuckled at Peridot's disbelieving face. "Yes, even the greatest warrior to ever wield a polearm could be defeated. When he died, his polearm Maha went mad with grief and smashed himself against a rock until he broke into little pieces. We buried them together.

"So Mercedes and I are the only ones left. Being an elf, she was expected to live a long time. Unless she met the same fate as Aran, we always thought she would be the last Hero alive. She eventually retired as queen - handed authority over to a younger elf - and became the most respected elder of her people, though she doesn't look at all elderly."

Phantom was silent for a moment. "It was nearly twenty years after we defeated the Black Mage before I noticed anything odd. In thirty more, the lack of change was impossible to ignore. Even leaving out the 'ice age', as we called it, I should have been starting to look like an old man. _Evan_ was showing some age at that point... he eventually died, old and happy. But I still looked just like this." He made a motion toward himself.

Peridot gave him a considering look. "You don't look much older than thirty."

He nodded. "We think it was the curse. Everyone knew that time had stopped for us during those years, but no one ever expected it to be more than a pause. At first, I was uncertain. Was it a sort of immortality, or did we just appear young until we died suddenly after an extremely long life? But after several centuries my curiosity dimmed. Time seemed to have forgotten the Heroes.

"Once I gave up on dying of old age, I began to wonder why I kept living. Aran was proof enough that we were not invulnerable; a simple decision to ignore danger when it looked my way and this would all be over. So why did I keep dodging?" He sighed.

"Perhaps for Aria. I... knew that she wouldn't want me to give up. She'd want me to keep trying to make a difference in the world. But the years have stretched on, and they've been long and lonely..."

Phantom stopped talking. His throat was feeling tight, and he didn't want to start crying. But the tears welled up anyway as a pair of small arms wrapped around him.

"So that's why you visit her picture."

He nodded, knowing Peridot wouldn't see it with her face against his shoulder, and smiled weakly at the stars. "I have only one wish now... to see the world Aria dreamed of."

She tilted her head and looked up at him with troubled eyes. "But you said you were lonely..."

He tried to wipe a tear away before she saw it. "I'll be fine... there will always be stuck-up rich people to steal from, and wonderful people like you to-" He broke off and glanced at her.

"To love everyone, even the scoundrels like you." Peridot pulled away, but only to favor him with a smile. "Right now, you're not alone." She leaned back in and kissed his cheek.

Phantom smiled back. "For a scoundrel, I sure meet a lot of sweethearts. But it's getting late. You should go to bed or you'll be exhausted tomorrow."

"I don't want to leave you all by yourself."

"I'll be fine," he repeated, gesturing up at the sky. "As long as the moon still shines, it isn't completely dark. Goodnight, Peridot."

Reluctantly, she left him and headed back inside.

Phantom sat there for a while longer. He shivered when he heard a dog howling in the distance. "They say time heals all wounds... but they've never lived long enough to see the day when the scars don't hurt anymore."

The wind rustled the rose bushes again. His gaze flickered over to them distractedly as he tried to make up his mind whether he should have a good cry or attempt to cheer himself up.

The roses were in full bloom.


End file.
